Chapter Sixteen
Vik
One week later
Idon’t like this.
The atmosphere in my home is chaotic and hostile whenever we’re together, and painfully quiet whenever I’m alone.
I miss her voice. I miss her laugh echoing through the house. The sweet, intoxicating scent of her hair whenever she gets too close. Most of all, I miss her gentle touch. The quiet longing beneath her insistence that what we were doing was wrong.
I miss having control.
Of myself. Of her. Of every situation that presented itself.
These days, she gives me nothing. Not a scowl of anger. Not a grunt of disappointment. Instead, Hannah drifts through the house like a ghost, treading carefully wherever she goes to avoid my attention. The only time I hear her is through the walls while she’s playing with her cat.
I’ve never been jealous of an animal before. But what I wouldn’t give to trade places with the little bastard for one night.
My mistakes are obvious. My cruelty was unintentional. But it’s difficult to show remorse when there isn’t much to feel. I’m the man who cornered her in that alley. I held her against me. Felt her trembling in my arms.
No matter what she believes, she was never in any real danger.
So, I’d be lying if I told her the bastard who touched her was going to suffer for it. Because there is no suffering to be had.
It was a rush. A thrill. For both of us, whether she wants to admit it or not.
Still, I find myself in a strange predicament. While things with Hannah have reached an all-time low, the rest of my work has never been better. Thanks to the man named X—and the help of my team—I’ve finally tracked down Brian Harris.
He’s a clean-cut accountant at a small firm in the city. Knowing who he really is, I suspect it’s nothing more than a front for laundering his ill-gotten gains. Tax havens in the Cayman Islands and Switzerland. Cooked books for local businesses. Every dirty dollar washed clean.
And now that I’ve found him, my troubles at home will have to wait. There’s work to be done.
I’m lying across the back seat of his Honda Civic, staring at the roof.
I slipped into the car an hour after sunset.
Over the past few days, I’ve learned his routine.
Not once had Brian left the office before eight-thirty.
This gave me plenty of time to wait for the strip mall parking lot to empty before climbing into the back of his car.
Getting in was easy. Waiting was the hard part. I spent the entire time trying to clear Hannah from my head and focus on the job in front of me.
The sound of the doors unlocking finally pulls me back into the moment. Brian climbs into the driver’s seat, whistling to himself as he settles in for his usual drive home. I let him. Until we’re clear of the parking lot and a few blocks down the road.
Then I sit up in the middle of the back seat.
I wait for him to notice me. It takes a ludicrous amount of time, considering he’s driving. At least getting rid of him will kill two birds with one stone.
I get my revenge... and the world loses another terrible driver.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck?”
He slams on the brakes the moment he finally spots me. Thankfully, we’re in a deserted part of town, and there isn’t another car around for him to crash into. I may feel invincible behind the mask... but I’m not stupid enough to test it in a car accident.
“I have a gun pointed at your spine,” I say calmly. “If you make any sudden moves, I’ll be forced to pull the trigger.”
Brian narrows his eyes in the rearview mirror, and the car rolls forward again.
He’s younger than I expected. Early fifties, maybe.
But I’d put him closer to his late forties.
Smooth skin and only a scattering of grey through his otherwise black hair make me question whether he’s really the man I’m looking for.
“What’s this about?”
There isn’t the slightest hint of nerves in his voice, reassuring me I’m on the right track. No ordinary man stays this calm with a gun pointed at his back.
“I’m going to give you directions. You’re going to follow them.” There’s no point answering his question yet.
I guide Brian through the city streets before directing him out toward a small patch of woodland my company purchased years ago.
Although my primary base of operations is in New York City, I acquired this land under the guise of an environmentally friendly research and development facility for the many products my company produces.
One hundred and fifty acres, give or take, hidden beneath a dense canopy of trees.
At the center sits an elegant glass building surrounded by its own Garden of Eden.
But that was not the reason I bought this place.
The real value lies in the woods surrounding it.
We leave the road well before the main entrance and follow an old dirt track to the end. Brian brings the car to a stop and climbs out first. I follow close behind, keeping my pistol visible to discourage any stupid ideas.
So far...
It seems to be enough.
At the end sits nothing more than an aging concrete slab, half-hidden beneath years of overgrowth. Unless you know exactly where to look, you’d never find it. Set into the concrete is a heavy steel trapdoor.
Understanding what’s expected of him, Brian pulls it open while I scan the surrounding trees for anyone foolish enough to be wandering through the forest this late at night.
The odds are low, but complacency gets people killed.
“Down you go.”
Once the hatch is fully open, he climbs down without a fight.
The bunker, as it’s come to be known, has served as my primary base ever since I acquired this section of forest. It’s close enough to the city that I can reach it quickly. And hidden enough to keep my two lives separate.
It’s also where Frank Coleman has spent the better part of the past two weeks. No doubt it’s where he’ll meet his end.
I usher Brian along the corridor at the bottom of the stairs. It’s grimy. Poorly lit. Frank’s distant howls echo from one of the cells, filling the bunker with a constant reminder of what’s waiting for anyone brought here.
There are three rooms. The first serves as a waiting and observation area for my men, fully stocked with everything they need to stay comfortable during long shifts.
The second is a holding cell, built for three occupants but rarely housing more than one.
The last is the interrogation room. That’s where Brian and I are headed.
A single yellow bulb hangs above a metal chair. Everything else is bare concrete from floor to ceiling. A tomb where many have entered... and very few have left.
Brian sits. I remain standing a few feet away. His posture tells me he’s been here before. Not this exact room, but in situations like this. He understands the danger. More importantly... he believes he’ll survive it.
“So...” He runs a hand through his hair before resting one ankle across his opposite knee. “You gonna tell me what this is about now?”
“I understand you work in acquisitions.” It’s vague enough that if I’ve got the wrong man, I’ll know soon enough.
But if Brian belongs to their circle... He’ll know exactly what I mean.
“I do,” he says. “But if this is what I think it is, young pup, you aren’t the first piece of shit who’s tried to shake me down.”
Maybe. But I’ll be the last.
“Who said anything about a shakedown?” I ask.
“The mask, for one. Breaking into my car. Driving me out to the woods. A somber backing track of men howling in the distance,” Brian lists his observations. “Oh, and who could forget the gun?”
I’ll admit that the way Frank moans, it’s easy to mistake him for more than one man. But Brian will get another taste of freedom if he plays his cards right.
“I’m a private man, Mr. Harris. I believe deals like this can’t be made in the open. One wrong pair of eyes can turn even the greatest plans to ash.”
“Mind if I have a cigarette?” Brian asks, ignoring my comment.
I wave a hand in acknowledgment.
He fishes a packet from his pocket, lights a cigarette, and takes the first few drags while contemplating his situation.
“I’m not a gambling man, but I’d wager that if you were going to kill me, I’d already be dead.”
He rolls the cigarette between his fingers as he speaks, talking more to himself than to me.
“And if you’ve gone through all the trouble of bringing me here, I’m guessing you already know more about me than I’d ever admit out loud. So... fuck it. Let’s hear what you’re scheming.”
I holster my gun, a silent signal that the immediate threat has passed. I’ve lowered his guard enough to get through the rest of this conversation.
“I learned about you through an associate of Frank Coleman,” I say.
Brian’s ears twitch at Frank’s name. Another point in my favor.
“He told me you and your people are the best in the business.”
I have to suppress a chuckle, knowing Frank’s the one providing the theatrical soundtrack a few feet away.
“Nah, not my people. They’re good at what they do, though.” Brian shrugs. “But don’t let the flashy suits and expensive watches fool you. They’re street-corner thugs.”
The news both pleases and frustrates me. I’d convinced myself these negotiations were with one of them. Instead, Brian is just another middleman. Maybe I was foolish to think finding one link would be enough to break the entire chain.
But I’m growing tired of this game of cat and mouse. Hannah’s return has given me something new to chase. Something that comes with its own excitement. Its own thrill.
My desire for her remains overshadowed by my need for vengeance, though. I can’t have her... or allow myself to truly want her... until this debt is paid.
“What’s it going to take to arrange a meeting with them?”
“Money,” he says, punctuating the word with a smoky laugh. “Lots and lots of money.”
“Then name your price and arrange the meeting.” I gesture for him to stand, and he does without complaint. “Let’s make it quick. Time is not on my side.”
“You got it, boss.” Brian heads for the door. “But let’s skip the forty-minute drive next time, huh?”
I smile behind the mask.